by Robin Gianna
CHAPTER EIGHT
JILLIAN SAT ON one of Conor’s comfortable modern sofas and stared out over the city while she ate a banana that wasn’t black this time.
The dogs were at her knees, nudging her and demanding attention, despite Conor having taken them for a walk early this morning, and she managed a crooked smile even as she inexplicably wanted to cry. She reached to scratch their ears, and when Hudson whined she rested her face on his big head.
“I know. I miss him, too. Which is not a good thing.”
But, she reminded herself, she’d missed him even when they were married, hadn’t she?
If only she’d known how things would turn out when she’d fallen so hard for him on their very first date. Except, if she was honest with herself, she had a feeling that nothing would have kept her from wanting to be with him, from marrying him, even if she’d known that her heart would be so deeply bruised when it was over.
After last night’s conversation she understood him better. And that understanding made her heart hurt for him, made her appreciate why he hadn’t seemed to want to change his ways even as their marriage had crumbled. It was good that she knew, and it would go a long way toward closure as she moved on to a new phase of her life.
The ‘William Tell Overture’ began so abruptly she jumped, then fished around for her phone. Finally finding it between the sofa cushions, she saw it was Briana.
“Hey, sis! What’s the scoop?”
“I finally squeezed out some time to come stay with you,” Briana said. “I’m really sorry I haven’t been able to get there sooner. I’ll be doing some work from there, but I figure that’s not a problem, right?”
“Not at all. I have therapy sessions three times a week, and I even get a little work done for another hour or two. I’m not too functional yet, but you shouldn’t have to stay very long. I’ll be off the nighttime pain meds soon, and I am learning how to get along with only one hand until the other one starts to work again.”
“Great to hear. I’ll be there the day after tomorrow. I’ll let you know what time. Can’t wait to see you and the pups.”
“Can’t wait, either. Love you—and thanks.”
Her fingers went limp with the phone still in her hand and she stared out the window again. This was it. Briana was coming. Time to say goodbye to Conor, except for the times they’d run into each other at HOAC. Besides getting her hand to work again, looking for another job would be her priority now, so they could say goodbye for good and never see one another again.
She should feel glad about that. Seeing him, and then making love with him, had seriously messed with her equilibrium and brought back some of the pain and heartache she’d been trying to move on from. It had also brought back wonderful memories of how much fun they’d had together when things had been good.
Which must be why her stomach felt hollow at the thought of never seeing him again. Of it truly being over with again.
But of course neither of them had any interest in going back in time. Conor was who he was, and she was who she was. Great sex was just that, and it had nothing to do with being right for one another in any real-life way.
She sighed and lay her head back against the cushions.
Apparently she’d dozed off, because the next thing she heard was the sound of the front door opening and Conor’s voice saying her name. She felt his hand smoothing back her hair and opened her eyes to see him smiling at her as he crouched in front of her, wearing a suit and tie, crinkles at the corners of his eyes.
“Hey.” He gave her nose a gentle flick. “How are you feeling?”
“Pretty good.”
If she didn’t count feeling confused. Wired from what had happened between them last night. A little sad that it wouldn’t happen again. And relieved not to have to rehash all the bad things between them anymore.
“I’m glad. Because I don’t have any surgeries scheduled today and I decided to get a bunch of business stuff done this morning and put the rest off until tomorrow so I could take the rest of the day off to spend with you.”
“What?” She struggled to sit upright and his hands wrapped around her waist to help her.
“I know it’s hard for you, being cooped up here when you’re not at therapy or helping out there. Not able to run, or mess with your plants, or do all the stuff you usually do. Speaking of which...” He stood and walked to his doorway, then returned. “I figured the cool tones of the decorating around here needed a little warmth to make you feel at home. So I brought a couple of your plants to keep you company.”
He set them on the coffee table and she stared. Reached out to finger one of the leaves as, inexplicably, a lump came to her throat. “That’s...very sweet of you. Except there’s no reason for me to try to feel at home anymore. Briana called and she’s coming day after tomorrow. I’ll be going back to my place.”
His smile faded and their eyes met for a long moment before he put on a forced smile. “Well, that’s good. I’m glad she’ll be able to take care of you for a while.”
“Yeah. It’s good.”
His chest lifted in a deep breath and neither of them spoke as their eyes met.
Finally, she made herself stand. “So, maybe you can help me pack?”
“You said she’s not coming until day after tomorrow. And you know I never take an afternoon off. So let’s enjoy it while we can.”
She stared at his crooked smile and her heart bumped around in her chest. She couldn’t believe he’d taken time off to be with her. Was that a good thing she’d be able to take with her when they parted ways? Or would it make her miss him even more than she would have?
“I... I don’t know what to say.”
“I hope you’ll say yes,” he said quietly. “I was thinking we could spend some time in the city, doing a few things we talked about but never got around to. Go to a couple of your favorite museums, since I never take time to do things like that. See the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree.”
A bubble filled her chest, warring with the melancholy she’d felt earlier, balling up in there until she could hardly breathe. Incredibly, Conor had taken the afternoon off to spend it with her. Maybe it would be the best way in the world to put the chaotic feelings from their divorce into the past.
Her throat tight, she somehow managed to answer. “Well... Since I’ll probably be moving sometime soon, that sounds like a nice way to say goodbye to both you and New York.”
* * *
Conor let himself hold her hand, as he had from pretty much the moment they’d left his apartment. He’d convinced her he was making sure she didn’t stumble and fall on the uneven sidewalk, but the truth was he wanted that physical connection with her for the short time he’d be able to enjoy it. What was the point of keeping his distance when they’d shared a kind of closeness last night that was bittersweet?
Sweet because they still obviously cared about one another, and immeasurably bitter because he couldn’t be the man she deserved and he’d never put them in a position where he could ever hurt her again.
Jillian looked up at him as they left the last exhibit at the Guggenheim Museum and headed toward the coat check, where they’d stashed their lunch cooler. “This was fun. I feel silly that I’ve never come to this museum in the three years I’ve lived in New York.”
“I haven’t been here for a long time. And I’m still not sure about that weird exhibit that looked like giant cotton balls on pieces of wood and those big stones strewn around the floor—but, hey. What do I know about art?”
He loved the way she laughed, just like she had when they’d looked at the exhibit. Lighthearted, the way she had been long ago when they’d been happy together.
“Enough to know it looks like overgrown cotton balls. I thought we might get thrown out, joking about it. Good thing we moved to the Kandinsky exhibit or we might have.”
H
e grinned. “Yeah. Good thing... I enjoyed most of the other stuff, though.”
“Me, too.”
The way she smiled at him had his chest feeling lighter than it had in a long, long time. She’d been right. He should take time to enjoy the city in a way he rarely did. He’d be going back to the grind once she was out of his life for good, but he’d take this day with her while he had it.
“Ready to go to Central Park for our winter picnic? It’s already mid-afternoon, so you’ve got to be hungry.” Conor took the backpack cooler from the coat-check clerk and adjusted it on his shoulders before they headed out the door.
“I am. Studying fine art takes a lot of energy.”
He had to laugh at her cute grin. “How about we sit here in the sun? Unless it’s too cold for you?”
“I wore my parka so we could be outside as much as we wanted. So we can see the Rockefeller Center tree after it’s dark.”
“My coat is warm, too, so that’s the plan.” He tucked her chilly hand into the crook of his arm and drew her close as they walked. “After we eat maybe we can go to the Metropolitan Museum before we go to the Rockefeller Center—unless you have another idea.”
“I hear they’ve kept the boathouse at the Lake open late this year, because the weather has been so mild. I think it’s closing tomorrow for the winter. Maybe we could rent a boat and row around for half an hour before we eat? I’ve walked by the boats on the Lake a few times and always wanted to do it, but never have. A couple times I had the dogs with me, and I was afraid Yorkie would jump into the water, like the goof he is. Plus Hudson’s awful big for a rowboat.”
Another knife-stab of regret jabbed him in the chest. He wondered if she’d wanted to do that while they were married. If so, it was another example of the ways he’d failed her, leaving her alone most of the time.
“I’m sure the dogs love the park, but for today I’m glad we came without them. Hitting the museums and riding in a boat couldn’t be on our agenda if we had them with us.”
“Not to mention that Yorkie would be trying to steal our lunch whenever we weren’t looking.”
He’d always been a sucker for that smile of hers, and he shook off the melancholy that had sneaked into his heart again. He wanted this day with her to be filled with good memories for both of them.
“All right. Boat ride it is, and then we’ll eat.”
They walked in companionable silence to the Lake and rented a rowboat. Conor set the backpack in the bow of the boat, then reached for Jill’s hand. “Step in. I’ll steady you until you’ve sat on the middle bench. I figure you want to row?”
He grinned at her surprised laugh.
“I do want to row. Except we’ll go in circles using only one oar.”
“Well, if you’re going to make me do all the work,” he said with an exaggerated sigh, “you might as well sit in the back.”
“How about we both sit on the middle seat and each take one oar?”
This time he was the one who laughed. “I think that would be really difficult.”
“Let’s give it a try, anyway. I need to keep at least one arm strong.”
He found himself falling into her twinkling gray-green eyes, felt his own smile forming deep inside his chest even as all those mixed emotions tangled in there as well. “All right. Who knows? Maybe we’ll be trendsetters and everyone on the Lake will follow our lead.”
“Not too many people out here on a chilly December afternoon, with the boats about to shut down. Maybe they’re smarter than we are.”
“Or we’re smarter than they are, having to sit close together to stay warm.”
She laughed as he helped her onto the middle seat, then shoved the boat into the water and jumped in next to her. Their hips were smashed next to each other’s and their shoulders bumped, too. Her beautiful face was so close her hair lifted to tickle his skin as he reached across to grab her oar for her, and suddenly he was incredibly glad she’d suggested this unorthodox and probably ridiculous way to row a boat.
“Ready?”
“Ready!”
They both dipped their oars, and for a few minutes they did fine. Then their rhythm got off-kilter and the boat began to move in a slow circle back to where they’d come from, making them both laugh and stop rowing.
“Seems to me we’re doing what you said we’d do if you rowed alone,” Conor teased. “Let’s decide where we want to go, then we’ll try again.”
“How about over there by the rocks? Someone told me there are lots of turtles there. Maybe we’ll see them.”
“Okay. I’m going to row twice to turn us, then you’re going to join me. Okay?”
She grinned up at him and nodded, and he got so fixated on her eyes and smile he forgot to start rowing. He leaned in to kiss her forehead, and let his lips linger there because he couldn’t help himself.
“Your bump’s almost gone.”
“Probably that nasty ice helped it go away faster.”
“Probably...” He let himself softly kiss her mouth and was glad she didn’t pull away. “See? I do know what I’m doing sometimes.”
“Sometimes. Especially when it comes to rowing.”
She leaned up to press her lips to his again, and he closed his eyes to soak in how good it felt. Floating on the water with the sun on their faces and the cold breeze on their skin and the feel of her mouth on his. He wrapped his free arm around her back, wanting to keep kissing her. Wanting the moment never to end.
A loud splash nearby, along with some laughing, had them pulling apart, their eyes meeting. Hers seemed to be filled with the same longing and melancholy that kept threatening to ruin the day, and he resolutely shoved his own longing down. Appreciating and enjoying one another today would go a long way toward healing them both when they parted.
“All right, here we go. One, two, three, dip.”
This time they managed to row in sync, slowly making their way across the Lake. Conor kept his arm around her waist, holding her close. Because it felt so good, because he wanted her to stay warm, and because he thought maybe it helped them move together in rhythm. Though that made him think about last night and...
He sucked in a deep breath. “Doing good now, aren’t we?”
“Expert rowing, I must say.” Her white teeth gleamed as she smiled up at him. “Though I haven’t seen anyone else rowing like this. No trendsetting going on.”
“Give it time. Next time you’re here I’ll bet half the people on the Lake will be doing it just like this.”
“That might be a long time,” she said, her voice tinged with regret. “If I move out of state I won’t be coming to New York much.”
He nearly told her that she didn’t have to take the job if she’d miss the city so much. Then he remembered the reason she wanted to move and couldn’t argue with it. He knew that it would be incredibly difficult for them to see one another regularly at work. When they’d been dating, and then first married, seeing one another there had been the highlight of his day. After their breakup it had been the worst torture in the world, and he knew she’d felt the same way.
Having no good response to her comment, he stayed quiet as they rowed across the water, glistening with late-afternoon sunlight on its gentle waves. They approached the rocky shoreline on one side and she pointed and exclaimed.
“Look! There they are—three of them, sunning on that rock. Wow, I didn’t think we’d really get to see them.”
“Pretty cool. Not too many places where you can see turtles on a lake with a skyline like that in the background.”
“True. No place in the world like New York City.”
There it was again. That tinge of sadness in her voice. He stopped rowing and reached to turned her face toward his. “Jill. If you don’t want to move, you shouldn’t. We can figure out a way to work near each other. Or you can stay at the OTC until
you find another job in the city. I don’t want to be the reason you feel you have to leave here.”
“I know. But moving is a good solution in a lot of ways. The dogs will do better in a bigger place, and it’ll be a lot cheaper for me to live. Those are pluses. And maybe up the road I’ll want to move back. Or maybe I’ll love it wherever I end up next.” She stroked her fingers across his cheek and he could see the effort she made to smile. “Please don’t worry. All things work out the way they’re supposed to.”
Did they? Maybe... Probably. Though he wasn’t sure if that statement made him feel better or worse.
“Jill, I—”
“Let’s go a little further—up to that pretty bridge,” she said, interrupting.
Which was good, because he hadn’t really known what he was going to say.
“Then we’ll go have lunch?”
“All right.”
He breathed in the lake-water-scented air, glad to move on from the subject even though he wasn’t sure they’d fully talked it through.
After floating beneath the bridge, they turned around and headed back to the dock.
“You stay put,” he said as he set the oars back in place and stepped out. Then he put out his hand. “Careful, now.”
“I may be handicapped but I’m not an invalid, Mr. Mother-Hen.”
The cute smile she sent him loosened the bands of guilt and regret tightening his chest. “That’s Dr. Mother-Hen, thank you. And I’m just trying to keep you safe.”
He helped her step from the boat, then retrieved the backpack.
“If looking at fine art made us hungry, rowing should make us feel starved. I know a good place not too far off. Should have some sunshine to keep us warm.”
They walked through the park until he found the spot he knew she’d enjoy. He tugged out the thin blanket he’d rolled up and stuck in the backpack and laid it down on the ground, with Jill helping spread it out as best she could. They sat in the center of it, her knee touching his as he twisted to dig into the cooler.
